3 Times
by Lonelygoatherd
Summary: Two times Emily kissed Alison. One time Ali kissed her. /short ficlet I wrote for a friend on Tumblr/


I.

It was the first sleepover The Liars had ever had together. That was what Alison had branded them, after their somewhat embarrassing game of Truth-or-Dare. Ali always said there wasn't any better way to make friends than by learning their most intimate secrets, and none of the four had the audacity to question their newest and most popular friend. Who in their mind would want to give up a friendship with The Alison DiLaurentis?

It was five minutes past midnight, and the antics of the day had long since passed: movies, popcorn, secret swapping, makeovers, and uncontrollable bouts of giggling. Aria and Spencer slept quietly in the corner, bundled in matching plaid sleeping bags. Hanna snoozed more deeply in the middle of the room, her body curling around the warm, sweet kitten that Alison had begged for that past Christmas.

Only two girls hadn't been taken by sleep yet, though neither of them knew, and it wasn't until almost an hour later that they discovered this. The lights were completely off in Ali's room, which was what caused Emily and Alison to both crash into each other on their mutual way to the door.

"Who's there?" Alison harshly whispered.

"It's just me, I was on my way to the bathroom." Emily looked down, somewhat ashamed, even though she knew Alison couldn't see her.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" Alison's hand blindly reached for Emily's, and upon grasping it, lead her out of the room and into the hallway, where she turned on a dim lamp.

Emily had never truly wanted to acknowledge how beautiful she found Ali, but in this light, with her hand still being held, she couldn't bring herself to deny how much she adored her.

Alison stared at her with the intensity that had come to define her as a person; nobody could match the quiet sparkle, the shimmer that always made one think she knew of something you didn't, and wanted to keep it that way.

"When you're done, come meet me in the kitchen."

They'd spent a good hour or so after this sitting on the porch outside, indulging in a cheap wine that Ali had stolen from her parents' collection. As the night wore on, the stars seemed to shine brighter, the moon grew more luminant, and the two girls deeper in conversation.

"It just seems like boys don't care about anything, other than sex. It's so gross. They don't know how to act around a lady, they don't know how to be nice just for the sake of being nice. They've completely turned my year upside down, and it just doesn't seem like it's worth it anymore."

Emily kept quiet at this. She was drunk enough to feel more things than she would normally let herself allow, but not so drunk that she would divulge too much or act on something completely impulsive. Besides, these sorts of conversations never allowed her to offer much, now did they?

Alison rambled on for another minute or so, and suddenly became quiet; whether it was because she'd run out of things to say, or could sense Emily's discomfort, one could not say, and it was this quiet, courteous pause, as well as another (long and heavy) swig of Cabernet Sauvignon that gave Emily the nerve to lean over and give her new friend a quick and confused kiss on the lips.

Seconds after it happened, both looked away from the other for quite awhile, hiding smiles. After that night, neither had chosen to acknowledge it again for some time, but neither were regretful, either.

II.

The news had not been a welcome guest in the Fields home, but they couldn't turn it off. For hours now, Emily and her mother had been holding each other on the couch, too afraid to move for fear that they might also lose the other. The television spoke of a military plane being shot down, one that had a very real possibility of Emily's father having being on. No phone calls came in, but that could just very well mean no body had been identified yet.

They sat like that through the night, hoping for miracles and uttering prayers that someone would, hopefully, hear.

They found out in the morning. Emily's father was safe. It was fantastic in and of itself; her father had a very real chance of dying, and while that feeling would never truly leave her, the relief of knowing that he was alive and well right now was enough to sate her.

The first tangible thought she'd had after all the ones of her father was that she needed to call Alison and tell her. It only seemed right to celebrate the long life her father still had yet to partake in (hopefully) with the girl whose life she was just as thankful for.

She'd come as the first hints of darkness were creeping into the sky. Her arrival had calmed a sort of storm raging in Emily, one swimming with the effects of anxiety, fear, and grief. Emily still felt a bit shaken, but with the good news from before and Alison's arrival, a sort of placated contentment overtook her.

They sat on the porch outside, and although it was a different porch, to be fair, Emily couldn't help but feel the remnants of awkward feelings between them, given what transpired between them the last time they sat outside at night, on a porch.

Silence floated in the air around them for a long while, but eventually Emily opened up to her. She talked about how scared she was for herself, how much it hurt to see her mom cry, how afraid she was, and still couldn't shake that still, small voice inside her heart that told her _this won't be over, his life is always in danger, this is no victor_y over and over again. Alison began to hold her as she cried over all the tension that had building inside of her the past day. They stayed like that for awhile, long after the tears and mumbled _I know_'s and_ I'm so sorry_'s.

This wasn't the last time the Fields would have a brush with death, oh no, it most definitely was not. But it was what caused Emily to really understand the short and temporary status of life. She didn't have to come to terms with it just yet, or spend the rest of her life applying this philosophy, preaching about 'making the most of it' to everyone; just understanding it and knowing that it was there was enough.

This time, it didn't take a spontaneous moment of nerve during a bout of underage drinking for Emily to kiss her best friend. A sense of urgency and longing, a dormant and internal need for something was her reasoning. Emily slowly broke free from her friend's embrace, and leaned in to kiss her. Alison's lips were soft and familiar, and always had an intriguing hint of strawberry lingering on them.

It was dark out and the night was stagnant, full of taut and heavy promises. Their kiss was longer than usual, perhaps because Alison knew that this was one of those things that you grant to your friends (and, she could begrudgingly admit years later, to yourself) when they need it.

After that night, neither had chosen to acknowledge it again for some time, but neither were regretful, either.

III.

The trio of girls leaving Alison's house turned their heads to wave one last goodbye, before turning the corner to where their parents were waiting to pick them up. Today was the day after Alison's 16th birthday, the birthday to end all birthdays. The Liars had felt a special sense of superiority at Ali's having chosen to spend the day with them.

It was one in the afternoon, and Emily's mom was late picking her up. Or perhaps she'd told her to come get her an hour later than when everyone else's parents were coming. Lately Alison had been spending so much time with other friends outside of their group, with older girls and boys who always seemed more sophisticated and_ interesting_. But even when she was with the four girls, to Emily it still felt like there were too many. If three was a crowd, what the hell was five? Really though, just an extra hour with Alison would be enough for Emily.

They hadn't been up for very long, as they'd gone to bed near four a.m., so it hadn't necessarily become awkward yet. They sat in Alison's dining room, eating leftover strawberry shortcake and lemonade, the remnants of a summer that would soon be coming to an end.

"So…junior year next week. Are you ready?" Alison didn't look at Emily, focusing instead on her late breakfast.

"Um, I suppose so. It's going to be nice being one of the older members on the swim team this year." Emily smiled. "I'll get to boss around the younger kids now, insead of having to take orders."

Alison returned the smile. "Telling others what to do, and having them listen, is one of the purest joys in life, sweetie."

Taking a long swig of lemonade, she took a second longer before adding, "And I doubt that anything can compete with the sweet satisfaction of being in control of a situation, and everyone else knowing it." She gave Emily a knowing smile, and a tingling sensation spread through her stomach. Emily found it impossible to break Alison's gaze, yet there was something too alluring and seductive in that smile for Emily to just look away, and pretend that there was nothing.

They passed the rest of the hour in a similar fashion, with Alison expanding on the makeover she'd given Emily last night. They talked about what they were expecting from high school this year, and even delved into the scary, foreign concept of the future.

All too soon, the sound of tires rolling up into the DiLaurentis driveway signalled Emily's mother's arrival. Emily's dissapointment was heavy; her chances at being able to spend time with Ali were always rare, when would a chance like this come up again?

The answer, unfortunately, was grimmer than she could have anticipated, but that's a story for another time.

Ali helped Emily with her things, but stopped just as Emily reached for the handle of the door. Before Emily could ask her what she was doing, Ali's lips were on hers. The taste of lemonade was thick, and the only coherent thought that Emily could muster was that this was Ali kissing her, and not the other way around.

It was over all too soon, and it wasn't until Emily was strewn across her bed at home, lost in thought, that what happened would fully register. But before she had been ushered into the car by her mother, Ali left her with a gentle embrace and a whisper of_ "Your mother is quite on time for being late"._

Some time, though not too long after, that day, only one of the two would be left. Unable to avoid acknowledging it any longer, Emily would oft spend time wondering if the other would have been able to regret it. Emily knew that she herself never had, and, especially now, never would.


End file.
